


He called me John

by Tindomerelhloni



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing, Doctor - Freeform, Extreme exhaustion, Forbidden Love, Gay Sex, Hand Feeding, Illegal Activities, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, Johnlock smutt, Love, M/M, Sex, Victorian, blowjob, caretaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4842338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tindomerelhloni/pseuds/Tindomerelhloni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There..." I murmured, dabbing a cloth to the corner of his lips. "I'll ring for Mrs. Hudson then? You can wash before bed?" I stood and pulled the bell then moved back to my friends side. The warm meal, the fire, it was all too much for him. He was already nodding off. "Holmes!" I shook his shoulder and snapped him back awake. "Just a bit longer for me."</p><p>Holmes nodded and sat forward, long arms played over his legs. "I was a fool, Watson." He mumbled, scraping a hand over his gaunt face. "I should have listened to my doctor."</p><p>"I'll remind you of that, shall I, on our next case then?" I chuckled. Upon realizing that my hand was still on his shoulder, gently caressing it, I pulled away and cleared my throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He called me John

**Author's Note:**

> ** I did a quick, very quick, check and I think I caught most of the spelling errors. I wrote this on my phone and.. well the auto correct is "ducking" awful. **

I'd let him ignore my voice of reason for too long. He was thin, pale, and deathly cold to the touch. So the moment he deemed the case solved I grabbed him by his elbow and stuffed him in a waiting hansom.

"Watson..." His protest was feeble, quite possibly only for show.

"Holmes," I said, removing myself from my role of silent companion and stepping into the role of his physician and friend. "You've gone two weeks with nary to eat but the bit of bread I tricked you into on Sunday... And it's now Friday." I glanced at him worriedly. He was shivering in the corner of the drafty hansom. I stripped off my overcoat and wrapped it around his thin frame, tucking the collar up under his nose.

"We are going home. You are eating a hot meal. And then you are going to get some much needed rest. I simply cannot allow you to take to the sofa...." My voice lowered and became strained, "and to your 7% solution for the world. You need proper care."

He waved a thin hand in the air dismissively and sighed.

"You have a wife to go home too..." His physical state had left him exhausted and I almost thought for a moment that I heard a bit of bitterness in his voice as he said 'wife'.

"Mary's away. London winter doesn't suit her..."

When I had told her that Holmes had requested my help on a case she had nodded her head and put her sewing down.

"How long?" She had asked.

"I can't be sure. Never can with him." I had replied simply. She'd been talking about getting out of London for a few weeks to go visit relatives. We discussed that possibility, and had come to the arrangement that I would send her a telegram when the case was over.

Holmes glanced at me with his sharp eyes but graciously said noting. He simply nodded and leaned further into the corner of the hansom . And there he remained until the hansom pulled up in front of the place I used to call home. As we walked through the front doors a warm fire in the hall greeted us, making me glad I had sent a message ahead to the Mrs. Hudson, the Landlady, before leaving. The noise of our arrival brought her out of her rooms and she gave a frightful squeak when she saw the state that her tenant was in.

"You get him upstairs, Doctor Watson! I've made a nice stew, I'll bring some right up. There's a fire already going for you." I tipped my hat at her before placing it on the hatstand, along with Holmes's top hat and both of our overcoats.

"Can you manage?" I asked, regarding the stairs, placing my hand at the small of his back.

"Yes." He said.

For the briefest of moments, when my hand first touched his back, I thought I saw him close his eyes and smile.

"Right then..." I stopped imagining that smile and pushed him towards the stairs. "Up you go. Straight to your room, where you'll put on nightclothes, socks, your warmest slippers and your dressing gown. You will not fall asleep. You will come back out to the fire where I'll watch as you eat a proper supper. Then, and only then, Holmes, will I allow you to sleep." I said all this kindly, my hand still on his back should he lose his balance and topple backwards.

I finished helping him up the last few steps and gently pushed him in the direction of his bedroom. While he was gone I rid myself of my filthy boots in favor of the slippers I left at the flat.

True to her word Mrs. Hudson had started a splendid fire for us. I pulled our chairs closer to it and deposited myself in what had become my chair while I waited for him.

He walked down the hall from his bedroom and sat himself in his chair silently. With content sighs we both stretched out or feet on the hearth and I grinned.

"It's good to be home." I said without thinking about my choice of words. He simply nodded his agreement, Mrs. Hudson's appearance saving me from one of his quick witted replies about how Baker Street was no longer my home.

"There’s tea, biscuits, stew and a little something for after." She smiled cheerfully as she placed the tray on the table that sat between our chairs. "Ring the bell if you need anything else."

"Actually. Yes, we will. A basin of hot water would be splendid." I glanced up at her, sincerely hoping I wasn't asking for too much.

"Of course, Doctor." She smoothed out her apron and began to walk away, calling over her shoulder as she went. "Ring when you're ready for it."

I took the lid off the tray and the tantalizing scents of beef stew, freshly made biscuits and sweet cake wafted up to greet us.

Fearing that balancing the bowl would be too much for my friend I pushed the table closer towards him. I watched with pleasant surprise as my friend willingly began to devour the food placed in front of him.

"Slow down. You'll make yourself sick." I chuckled and placed a spoonful of the stew in my mouth. The flavors danced across my tongue and I actually moaned. This was the first thing I'd eaten all day, and it was delightful. We ate in silence and when I had finished my friend had only managed half of his food.

"Here..." I whispered, leaning forward taking the bowl out of his trembling hands. "Let me?" I asked gently as I held a spoonful of stew to his lips, hoping I wasn't overstepping my role as caretaker.  He nodded slightly and I let the spoon pass into his mouth. Carefully, gently, slowly, I fed him. It was, I dare say, one of the most intimate things I had ever done with him.

"There..." I murmured, dabbing a cloth to the corner of his lips. "I'll ring for Mrs. Hudson then? You can wash before bed?" I stood and pulled the bell then moved back to my friends side. The warm meal, the fire, it was all too much for him. He was already nodding off. "Holmes!" I shook his shoulder and snapped him back awake. "Just a bit longer for me."

Holmes nodded and sat forward, long arms played over his legs. "I was a fool, Watson." He mumbled, scraping a hand over his gaunt face. "I should have listened to my doctor."

"I'll remind you of that, shall I, on our next case then?" I chuckled. Upon realizing that my hand was still on his shoulder, gently caressing it, I pulled away and cleared my throat.

I had just settled in my chair when Mrs. Hudson stepped into the room carrying a pitcher of steaming water. I stood again, ignoring the ache in my bones and took the pitcher from her.

"Ah... Thanks." She gave me a little smile, picked up the now empty tray. "Ring if you need anything else, gentlemen." And with that she was gone, leaving us alone for the night.

"Would you like to wash first?" I asked, as I poured the steaming water into a basin. I looked over when he didn't answer. He was watching me, skin nearly devoid of all color.  

"I simply don't have the energy, Watson." He sighed, sinking lower into the cushions.

"Homes!" I admonished. "You've been running around the streets of England for days. You need to wash or you'll soil your sheets."

"Hardly affects you." He mumbled.

"It does when the landlady complains to me about the state of them when she does the washing..." I signed, taking the basin and a cloth and settled on my knees by his feet. He arched an eyebrow at me but said nothing as he raised a foot and put it in my outstretched hand. I removed his slipper and sock and placed them next to the fireplace, ensuring that they would be warm when he put them back on.

I dipped the cloth into the water and twisted it over the basin. As I placed the warm cloth on his foot his whole body gave a slight tremor. I told myself it was just from the warmth of the water, that it had nothing to do with the fact that I was washing him. I continue my task... I washed both feet before looking up at him questioningly. My friend nodded, stood and began to slowly remove his night clothes. I averted my eyes in an attempt to give him some privacy, despite what I was about to do.

"John..." His rare use of my first name surprised me. My eyes skirted up his body, trailing over his most intimate parts. I tell the truth when I say I had every intention of meeting his gaze, however I could not remove my eyes from his prick. It was full, thick, flushed... And swollen... Pressed against the hollow of his stomach.

"I cannot help the way I feel about you, John..." His voice was quiet but it was not weak... No it was anything but weak. There was no hint of shame in his voice, no shyness. He did not shrink back and attempt to hide. He stood there not only baring himself to me, but his feelings towards me as well.

"Oh, Holmes..." I breathed, running the damp cloth over his thigh.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered. "For the position it puts you in..."

"Hush." I swiped the cloth over his inner thigh. He shivered. And moaned. Sherlock Holmes, the man who never says anything without purpose moaned. I continued my ministrations, rising off of my knees to attend to his chest. He was taller than me, so my eyes fell at nearly the same level as his lips. While they were currently chapped, they were still perfect. Plump, plush and rosy. Always rosy, no matter how pale the rest of him got.

"Turn..." I whispered, feeling my own arousal apparent in my trousers. I dipped the cloth back in the warm water and ran it over his back, feeling braver with my face shielded from his all knowing eyes. I ran my thumb over his spine, momentarily forgetting my task.

"Too skinny..." And before I could stop myself I pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. The world faded and his body began to melt against my kiss.

I'm not sure weather it was because his legs gave out, or I guided us but we collapsed to our knees, my hand and the dripping cloth still on his shoulder. He leaned against me and it was only then that I noticed his breathing had changed.

"Homes... Did you just?" I began to ask as I pressed my lips to his shoulder while snaking my hand around his torso. I smiled into his shoulder when my hand found evidence of his pleasure. "From a kiss?" I kissed his skin again and felt his body quiver.

"John..." He whispered, pressing his thin frame against my chest. "I've imagined your lips on my skin. Many times. But never..." His voice broke, and I could tell that he was crying. "Never did I imagine it would be so..."

"Stimulating?" I offered, this time kissing his neck.

"John..." He mewled my name.

"I like how that sounds." I admitted, now pressing kisses just beneath his ear and along his jawline. "Turn around so I can see you."

He did as I asked and I picked up the forgotten cloth and rewashed where he has spoiled himself, pleased to see he was aroused again. I looked into my friends eyes and smiled before leaning in to kiss his tears away.

"May I?" He asked. Glancing from the basin then back to me. I swallowed a lump in my throat and nodded.

He took the cloth from my hands and I began pulling off my clothes. He watched me as if not wishing to miss a moment. When I was again kneeling, now bare in front of him his gaze fell to my shoulder. To my scar. To the proof of my failings as an army doctor.

"So strong. To endure such pain." He whispered, tracing the scar with a finger. I scoffed and he admonished me with a single look. "John." He said again, mouth slightly open as if he could taste my name.

"This is, illegal." He breathed as he held the cloth up to my chest. I breathed sharply as the warm cloth, guided by his hand, traversed my body.

"It isn't the only illegal thing we've done together." I reasoned. He smirked, and shook his head.

"No. But it is.." He began, but I cut him off by pressing our lips together. His chapped lips somehow still felt like heaven pressed against mine. He kissed me in a way my wife had never before done. He kissed me with need, desire, passion, love. He kissed me as if his life depended on it. His hands soon found their way into my hair, and mine splayed across his back pulling him towards me.

"Sherlock..." I tested his name on my lips when I finally pulled away for breath. "My detective...."

"All yours." His mouth moved to my neck and I felt his tongue dance across my Adams Apple.

"Your wife..."  He pushed away, guiltily, averting his eyes from mine. His guilt, apparently, did not run all that deep as he continued running the cloth over my chest and sides.

"The thing about Mary." I leaned forward and cupped my hands around his face circling my fingers over his ears.

"She and I.." I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. She and I had fallen out of love years ago. Perhaps we were never truly in love to begin with. We lived together under the arrangement that it was best for us to appear happily married... Two adults of our age, unwed, out of choice and not because of circumstance. Well people talked. Sherlock searched my eyes and as understanding sank in he lunged for my lips. He kissed me with such passion that he nearly brought me to my release.

“Sherlock…” I mouthed his name hoarsely as his teeth scraped over my jaw.

“John.” His reply came along with the cloth. It was now being dragged over my hips, thighs, buttocks, everywhere but my aching prick. Everywhere except where I needed it most.  “Patience…”  His voice was like velvet as whispered into my ear.

“Oh… but… Sherlock…” I was panting now, canting my hips into the air. It had been too long, far too long.

“Not yet.” He licked his tongue over my ear then blew on my wet skin. “Not until you’re inside me.”

I shuddered, and nearly lost it.

“Inside?” I opened my eyes and saw him grinning mischievously at me. He nodded and stood, after testing his shaking legs and finding them at least functional he looked down at me.

“Let’s lay a few blankets down by the fire. We’ll sleep here tonight.” He didn't wait for my response. He walked to his bedroom. I followed him and as I walked into his room I was greeted by having a handful of pillows pushed into my face. “Take these.” I grunted and wrapped my hands around the pillows and returned to the sitting room. I placed them on my chair and was just starting to feel silly for standing stark naked in our common room when Holmes walked back in, an armful of blankets trailing behind him.

The soft sigh that fell from his lips as our fingers touched shot through me like a spark.The basin, pitcher and wash cloth were all moved out of the way. We grinned like children as we set up our makeshift bed on the floor in front of the fire. I shook out one of the blankets and looked curiously at the bottle that fell with a soft thud to the floor. Picking it up I found that it was a small bottle of Vaseline.

“Inside…” My eyes shot open in surprise, and excitement, as understanding flooded over me. I scrambled to help make our bed, and soon Holmes was laying on the floor smiling up at me.

“I think I need a Doctor.” He winked and pressed the bottle into my hands.

“Then I’m you’re doctor.” I grinned and pressed our lips together. Leaning over him like this our bodies touched. I could feel his thin frame below me and I knew that I needed to kiss every inch of it. Needed to show him he was loved. I placed the bottle on the floor by his head and he gave me a confused look.

“Patience…” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. I began the long, and glorious process of kissing every inch of Sherlock Holmes’s body. I started with his face, kissing his forehead, eyelids, nose, cheekbones… oh those cheekbones, his jaw. And then I traveled lower. I licked and nipped at his neck and shoulders. As I moved lower, to parts of his body that wouldn’t be seen by the public eye, I became braver. I began to suck and bite, leaving a mark here or there. His hips were all bone so I went back to gentle kisses, not wishing to hurt him.

I don’t know what made me stop. But I do know what gave me the idea. In an attempt to spark some romance between us, my wife had on one occasion, gotten me off with nothing but her mouth. I wanted, no needed, to do this for Sherlock. I lowered myself more comfortably so I was kneeling between his legs. And with a gentle touch I held his prick in my hand while bringing my head down to meet it. 

I pressed a kiss to the tip and smiled as he quivered. I stuck my tongue out, swirling it around the tip. He nearly came apart then. I wrapped my lips around the head and sucked, bobbing my head up and down in a slow, teasing rhythm. It only last a few minutes, soon Sherlock’s hands were in my hair trying to push me away, calling my name in warning.

“John…” He whispered, pushing at me. I didn’t listen. I simply grinned and quickened my pace. I knew what was coming, and I was surprised to find that I was not anxious. Instead I found that I wanted it, needed it. With a shout of my name his seed filled my mouth, it was warm, slick, and sweet. I swallowed what I could then reached for the cloth to clean the rest with.

Then, and only then did I take up the bottle of Vaseline. With slow, deliberate movements I pulled to top off, dipped my fingers inside and withdrew a liberal amount of the lubricant. “Legs on my shoulders…” I instructed, moving one of his legs so it was hooked up over my shoulder. He did the same with the other.

“Relax for me…” I pressed my fingers against his entrance and gently pushed. I went gently at first until he began to move, pushing himself onto my finger with more urgency.

“John…” He panted. “This is not the first time… I do it often when I have trouble… sleeping. I need you, inside. now.” He thrust up his hips as if to prove a point and I chuckled.

“You’ll be explaining yourself later…” I grunted as I scooted closer to his body. I took my prick in my hand, rubbed a small amount of Vaseline on myself then positioned my prick. I held my breath and pushed. Oh… he was tight, and warm, and I could feel every bit of him pulsing around my prick. I let out my breath slowly and leaned down to press our lips together. He lowered his legs so they were around my hips and his hands flew into my hair and held my head in place.

“Move…” He hissed as our lips met. His teeth found my bottom lip and he bit. With a cry of pleasure I pulled mostly out, just to forcefully thrust back into him.

“Holmes…”

“Sherlock.” He corrected. “I’m Sherlock to you, and you only.” He kissed me and I could taste Mrs. Hudson’s sweet cake on his lips.

“Sherlock…” I began again. “This is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.” The heat of the fire and my exertion had started to make me sweat. Our bodies slid against each other as I thrust in and out. His legs locked around my hips and soon he was bucking up into me, pushing himself against me. This new angle allowed for deeper penetration and soon he was keening.

“There, John!” He threw his head back against the pillow and his hands gripped at my hair so tight that it was painful. It was then that I was remind that while Sherlock was thin, he was not fragile, I could not break him. With that knowledge I pounded into him with such strength that it surprised even him. His lips curled into a beautifully wicked grin, one of his hands slid down my back, nails digging into my skin, and then both of his hands were gripping my arse cheeks.

“I’m close…” I panted, pressing my forehead against his sternum. He hummed his approval and gripped my arse harder.

“For me, John… Inside me..” He breathed, his voice dripping with honey.

“For you.” I agreed. With that I let myself go, I spent myself deep inside of Sherlock Holmes. And then I collapsed on my back next to him.

“That was… the most ridiculous thing I have ever done.” I chuckled as he curled his long body around mine. I kissed the top of his head and sank a hand in his hair, noting how his usually well kempt hair was now disheveled.

“May I sleep now, Doctor?” He teased, pulling a set of blankets around us.

“Not quite.” I kissed him again and drew my arms around him. “Before you sleep…” I drew a deep breath, buying for time before continuing.

“Mary and I…” I felt him stiffen slightly at her name. “We’re legally married, yes. But There is no love in our marriage. It is simply… mutually beneficial for us. Being married to me gives her the social status she desires, and having a wife keeps me out of the prying eyes of the public.” He relaxed and he nodded.

“I see… So you do not…” He paused and I heard him take a deep breath. “love her?”

“I respect her, and admire her. She’s a lovely woman. But love.. no. There is nothing romantic between us. In short, no, I do not love her.”

“Do you… love me?”

His question shocked me, and for a moment I didn’t answer.

“Of course I do.” And it was true. I had always loved him. From the moment we took off on our first case together, to the moment he tore open my trousers when I had been shot. “Of course I love you, Holmes… Sherlock.” I kissed him again and he relaxed back into my arms.

“So… you’ll move back home?” His lips found my chest and he began to kiss me, to kiss every bit of skin he could reach without moving.

“I think Mary and I can come to some arrangement. Perhaps… a miscarriage, pregnancy complications. Could sell my practice and give her most of the money. She could move to the countryside, start a new life.”

“Mmmm…” Sherlock nodded and I could feel him relaxing as he allowed himself to sleep. I relaxed himself, one of my hands still in his hair.

His words “I love you John.” were the last that I heard before falling into the best nights sleep I could remember ever having.

 

 


End file.
